


Found Wanting of the Bittersweet

by Sounddrive



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:06:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sounddrive/pseuds/Sounddrive
Summary: Prompt Origin: “so you know how mc got to see a little asra in the magical realms what if asra was the one to stumble on a younger version of mc?? How would that meeting go?”***"...Asra. I don't remember any of this."The white haired magician winced, unseen by Lyra's peripheral vision.Of course she wouldn't have remembered.





	Found Wanting of the Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This has major spoilers mixed with my own head canons in regards to a certain Major Arcana and my MC, Lyra. You’ve been warned.
> 
> Setting: Post-Main Route, Lyra x Asra.

Usually when one heard a child's laughter coming from out of nowhere, it would be the start of some horrible tale of caution.

This is not one of those stories.

"...Asra. I don't remember any of this."

The white haired magician winced, unseen by Lyra's peripheral vision.

Of course she wouldn't have remembered.

* * *

Lyra and Asra had wanted to try and see if they could stir up any of her old memories by going to The Fool's—or was it now... _her—_ realm.

When they had first arrived here, it was so similar to the starry road between all the realms of the Arcana that they almost missed it. What kept them there was Scout. She blocked them every which way until they settled down on two chairs that sat atop a cracked stone foundation.

After Scout took off, Asra and Lyra exchanged a look when the laughter started. It brought goosebumps to the both of them, but the white-haired magician could feel a surge of magic in the air.

“Asra...” Lyra whispered. Her dark brown eyes were aglow, her hair lazily floating upwards.

The both felt it, a massive rush of magic that immediately collided into them. It was enough to rattle their bones, their teeth clenched from the force. 

After the initial shock was over, they jumped to their feet. Hand in hand they practically spun 'round and 'round as the realm began to shift and change.

Their starry surroundings melted away to bountiful trees Lyra wasn’t familiar with, but she got the notion the lot of them were from a tropical region. The air was humid, but the rising—setting?—sun helped cool the uncomfortable heat.

Eventually, the sounds and noises of a village waking up was heard. From a variety of huts, people began to walk out and greet each other in a language Lyra didn’t remember, and one Asra just had the bare basics of.

_“Good morning <REDACTED>, how are you?“  
_

_“I’m fine Mrs. <REDACTED>. How’s your baby?“_

And so on and so forth. Asra was confused on why he couldn’t hear what the names of all the individuals were. Before he could voice this to Lyra, he found that her gaze was stuck somewhere else.

Asra followed her line of sight until he landed on someone he hadn’t seen in a little over four years.

“Asra, is that my uncle?” Lyra whispered.

“Any headache?” Asra inquired, looking down between their intertwined fingers. Lyra was squeezing his hand, not too hard, but still...

“No, but I feel like something is pulling on my brain...it’s nothing like the headaches from a long time ago, though.”

There was a beat and a wild array of emotions on her face before she quietly murmured, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I dunno. We’re a bit far away. Want to take a closer look?”

And so they did.

The man they followed to a small street food vendor was stocky in build. His hair was black, and there was a mischievous angle to his mouth despite the fact it was so early in the day. It appeared he was having a plain breakfast-time conversation with a small child.

It was then that Asra and Lyra knew who it was.

“Oh my god-”

“Oh my  _gods-!”_

Bảo hadn’t been exiled from the village yet. She couldn’t have been more than four or five years old at the time.

When the tiny version of Lyra spoke, the child’s voice was very inquisitive. Whatever this version of her asked, Bảo answered it cheekily, earning an annoyed stamp of her foot and a laugh from him. Bảo reached over and ruffled the young girl’s hair, the latter batting away his hand to fix it.

The food he ordered was a giant bowl of warm, hearty broth. The contents within a bowl were some thin, white noodles, various meats, and fried onion toppings, from what Asra could smell.

Bảo expertly balanced it on a wooden tray. Satisfied, he and his little niece walked back in the direction from whence came from.

* * *

 " _...Asra. I don't remember any of this."_

The white haired magician winced, unseen by Lyra's hyper-focused gaze on the retreating forms of an uncle she can’t remember, and the little version of herself.

Asra asked the same thing she did when he saw the visage of his childhood self: “Are you okay?”

His answer came in the form of the realm rearranging itself yet again, their surroundings melting back to the starry void.

Lyra released his hand, slightly curling in on herself, arms wrapped around herself in a hug.

“Hey, hey,” Asra soothed, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. Her eyes were glassy behind her spectacles, fingertips white from how her nails dug into her upper arms.

“...this was a bad idea,” she croaked. “Can we go home?”

Asra couldn’t say no to that.

* * *

They woke up in Muriel’s hut, the man himself off to the corner and whittling. The pair of them were closer to the fire, leaning against Inanna’s side.

Once Lyra had all control of her limbs, she stalked outside without a word.

Muriel stopped his whittling, perplexed. “What happened?”

“...That’s a long story,” Asra murmured. He grabbed his scarf, quietly greeting Faust, comfortably tucked in the red fabric.

 _“Friend?“_  

“Yeah. Have one of your hugs ready, Faust, she needs it.”

_“Will squeeze friend!“_

“We’ll be back Muri,” Asra turned to the other. He was acknowledged with a grunt and a small “...be careful“

***

Asra found her quite a ways away from the hut. She was sitting on a massive flat rock in the middle of the forest, knees to her chest and her spectacles set off to the side.

As he quietly approached, he noticed the dried blotches on the glass.

“Lyra?” he tried gently, carefully reaching out to touch her shoulder.

From the startled gasp that escaped her, he must’ve roused her from a surface-level nap.

Lyra had been ready to cast a heavy-duty deflect spell, but hearing Faust yell “FRIEND!” stopped her immediately.

“Asra?” Lyra asked, returning her glasses to her face. “W-what’re you doing here?”

“I’m worried about you. Faust is too.” On cue, Faust launched herself from Asra’s neck and into Lyra’s lap. The morph quickly slithered her way up Lyra’s back, tickling her, and wrapped around her shoulders.

 _“Squeeze!"_ Faust’s little tongue flickered against Lyra’s ear, wrangling a few gasps and snickers from the young woman.

Asra took his place beside his love, watching her with a strained smile. When she turned to him finally, a soft sigh of resignation escaped her.

“I thought I was over it.”

“Over what?”

“Over...over the fact I can’t remember,” Lyra sniffed. She reached behind her glasses, wiping away the tears that resurfaced.

She doubled over, her upper half sprawled over Asra’s lap. She was practically on her knees in defeat, hands gripping the sides of her head in frustration.

Asra smoothed his hand up and down her upper back as she sobbed. He hoped a combination of the motions and Faust’s warm, squeezy hugs would help soothe her...someway, somehow.

***

Eventually, Lyra became upright, wincing as several pops emanated from her back.

“Better?” Asra murmured softly. He offered her his hand, which she gently took.

The white-haired magician pulled her hand closer to his lips, gently placing one kiss on her knuckles. And then another, and another, and another.

Lyra’s sigh was soft at the gentle contact. She leaned forward. Asra took his cue to situate his bag behind his head, lie back with her lying atop him, and gently run his hands through her short hair.

Lyra had cut it after the Masquerade; the last time she did was before...

Asra swallowed, his hand stilling.

“What’s wrong?” Lyra murmured, eyes closed as she listened to his heartbeat.

“I think I like your hair like this,” Asra admitted, giving her a reassuring smile when she twisted herself to give him a skeptical look.

“I miss it long,” Lyra sighed. “I loved how your hands combed through it.”

“Pfthaha,” Asra leaned up to deliver a soft peck to her forehead. “It’ll grow back. We’ve got time.”

“Mmm...”

After a bit, the pair of magicians decided to get up and head back, lest Muriel would send Inanna after them. Faust had slithered back into the comfort of Asra’s clothes, poking out of his scarf.

“Oh, hold on!” Asra reached into his bag, earning a look of confusion from Lyra. With a flourish, he pulled his hat from his messenger bag.

When Asra held it out to the other magician. Lyra gasped, eyes lighting up. 

“...wait, what?! C-can I? Really?”

“At least let me have the honor of putting it on your head.”

Lyra bowed her head, giddy when he adjusted the brim of the hat. Asra couldn’t help but marvel at her when she stood tall with it. The hat was a bit big; it was made with his fluffy hair in mind after all...

“Remind me to find you a hat,” Asra murmured, “one that fits you better.” His lips curled up mischievously, imagining all sorts of hats she could try. There was a new vendor in the marketplace after all...

“You bet your boots I will,” Lyra chuckled, pressing a smooch on each side of his face.

Asra felt his head swim a bit, the rush of delight making him heady. Seeing his flushed face, coupled with a sheepish grin, made Lyra laugh.

_Good..._

They wouldn’t be able to solve this dilemma, and maybe it would never be solved...

At the moment though, he was happy to get her to laugh.

Hand in hand, Asra led her the way back, the forest warm with friendly whispers and hums.


End file.
